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Do You Trust Me?

Page 14

by B. G. Thomas


  “Never mind,” I replied. “What was Garrett doing to you?”

  Cole shuddered again. “He said he wanted me back. Said we’d shared everything there was for two men to share, but he wanted to give me AIDS so we could have that together too.”

  My mouth fell open. It seemed impossible. How could people be like that?

  “Thank God you’re okay,” Cole said. “I don’t know what I’d have done if he’d’ve hurt you.”

  “What does God have to do with it?” I said, unable to help it. I’d been angry with the Big Man too long. You just can’t let go of something like that overnight.

  “I think He brought you to me, and then He protected you.”

  “That’s crazy,” I said.

  “Neil….” Amy sighed.

  “Nevertheless, that’s what I think,” Cole said.

  “You really believe in Him, don’t you?” I asked.

  “I do,” he said with utter conviction. I could see it in his eyes.

  Oh, those eyes, I thought. I reached out and touched his cheek, felt a quiver, and gooseflesh ran up my arm.

  I had never wanted to kiss anyone more in my entire life. My family—Amy, my daughter, my nephew and niece—plus the owners of Black Bear surrounded me, and I didn’t care. I wanted to kiss him. Feel those lips against mine.

  “That was the police on the phone,” Darla said, sticking her head back into the dining room and breaking the moment. “They got the bastard.”

  Cole began to shake, and before I knew what I was doing, I pulled him into my arms. “You’re okay,” I whispered into his ear. “You’re okay. He can’t hurt you now.”

  “He sure can’t,” Darla said.

  Apparently, she didn’t have old-lady ears. Bionic, maybe. “Told them we’re pressing charges. Assured them you would too, right, Mr. Baxter?”

  I looked up over Cole into her eyes. “Neil,” I said. “Please call me Neil.”

  DARLA AND Vincent took Cole away after that. When they pulled him away, I almost cried out. I didn’t want to let him go. I could have held him forever.

  Then it was just me and Amy and the kids. Crystal hugged me, and then she looked at me in awe. “Pop, you’re the best.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes!”

  How long had it been since my teenage daughter had hugged me so tightly? I couldn’t remember the last time she did it at all.

  “That really was pretty cool, Uncle Neil,” Robin said.

  I couldn’t help but be pleased. With teenagers, someone my age has usually passed out of being “really cool” a long time ago.

  Even Todd added his opinion. “Dude, wicked.” He nodded. “That was dope.”

  I hoped that meant something good.

  And then Crystal hugged me again.

  I held her in my arms. I think Emily would have been pleased.

  When Crystal finally relaxed her hold, she still didn’t let go. She looked me deep in the eyes. “You like Cole, don’t ya, Pop?”

  I went stiff for a second, then calmed down. She couldn’t mean what it sounded like. “Why, of course I do, dear,” I murmured and patted her shoulder. When she pulled back, the joyful look on her face made me wonder what was going on in her head. And then for a moment, I was struck by how much she reminded me of her mother at that age.

  It warmed my heart.

  Emily lived on in Crystal.

  That was life.

  “You guys ready to get out of here?” Amy asked us.

  “Yeah, I think I am,” I replied. “It’s been a big night.”

  “It’s been a big day,” she said.

  She took my hand and walked me outside onto the porch. There was a gentle wind stirring the wind chimes. Crystal gave me one more hug, and then she and Robin and Todd ran off into the night.

  “Not exactly how I was picturing the evening ending,” I said.

  “Ooohh,” Amy said, and, by goodness, she giggled. “What had you planned?”

  “Oh, relax,” I said, my face blazing.

  Amy leaned against me, and I was struck again by how small she was next to me. Her head rested right up against my chest. Cole’s would come a bit higher. My shoulder, I think.

  “Gonna be a full moon,” she commented, looking up at the sky. “Tomorrow night, I think. Or the next.”

  “Yup.” I smiled. Put an arm around her shoulders.

  “You really okay?” she said.

  “Yup,” I said again.

  “Good,” she replied. “Because I’m worn the hell out and I’m hitting the sack.”

  “Me too.” I bent to kiss her forehead.

  “Love you,” she said.

  “Me too,” I replied.

  WHEN I was lying in bed, the moonlight pouring through the window, I couldn’t help but think of Cole. How had I thought the evening was going to end? With him here with me? Was I ready for something like that? That big a step? I felt a stirring as my penis began to get hard at only the thought of him in my bed. Obviously my cock thought it was a good idea. It had never filled so fast with thoughts of anyone else.

  “My God,” I whispered. I was seriously considering the idea of taking someone to bed again.

  I was seriously considering taking a man into my bed.

  Then I realized with a gasp that I’d let the word “God” pass my lips again.

  Maybe you’re not done with me, Old-Timer, I thought. And entertaining that idea: Okay. Let’s see what you have in store.

  Then I let thoughts of God pass from my mind.

  I thought of Cole.

  I thought of him in this bed.

  I conjured up our dream kiss.

  And I took my now very hard cock in hand.

  It didn’t take long.

  I WAS in the hot tub again. I’d woken up early and known there was no way I was going to be able to get back to sleep. No way at all. It was still a couple of hours before anything was planned. I thought the schedule had said it was a canoe trip ending back at the ranch. So with time to spare, I was back in the hot, bubbling water to which I’d become addicted.

  I realized I was going to have to get a hot tub. I’d heard they were a lot of work, but it would be worth it. Not a big one. Just a small one like this. Big enough for one.

  Or two?

  That made me think of Cole, and I smiled. What had the little son of a gun said? “You can get nekkid. I could come keep you company.”

  I was getting hard once more. I felt like a kid. Was I going to have to jerk off again?

  Save it.

  For what? I asked myself, and by goodness if I didn’t feel my face redden, even though I was alone! I’d embarrassed myself. I laughed, and it felt good to laugh. To really, really laugh. I let it out. I suddenly wanted to jump up and dance.

  Then I heard a sound.

  It was weird.

  Sort of a gurgling. A warble.

  What the hell could that be? I wondered.

  I will never understand why I did what I did next. My arms were crawling, the hair on the back of my neck sticking up as I got out of the hot tub and looked around.

  “Hello?” I called, ignoring what I know now was a premonition. Of self-preservation. If it had been a movie, I would have been screaming at the hero to go in the house. But I wasn’t in a movie. This was real life. And I was born and raised a city boy. I guess my sense of preservation wasn’t nearly as tuned as it could have been.

  There it was again… what? A grunt?

  Unlike in the dream, I wrapped myself in a towel. Strange how in just a few days I could be so comfortable with nudity, but what I heard was coming from the other side of the fence. The last thing I wanted to do was walk in naked on a couple making love. And that was a lot what the grunting sounded like. Sex.

  There was another strange warbling sound. “Hello?” I called out again, and it was answered by another one of those gurgles.

  Just like in my dream, I went to the gate and opened it.

  And just like in the drea
m, there was a bear outside the gate.

  It was indeed black, although some part of my brain noticed its snout was brown.

  It was indeed big.

  Very, very big.

  Its mouth opened wide, and it looked big enough to swallow me whole. The teeth were huge, and it growled.

  “Oh” was all I could say before my throat seized up.

  The animal grunted, growled again, and rose up. And up. And up.

  It was the second most terrifying moment of my life. I couldn’t move. My brain wasn’t working. It was trying to. I was trying to make it work, but it refused to cooperate. What was I supposed to do? Hadn’t Darla or Vincent or someone said something?

  Something about how black bears don’t like humans and rarely approach them. Was I supposed to flap my arms? Was I supposed to play dead?

  Run, my brain finally screamed as it raised its arm, showing claws just as big and just as sharp as those belonging to the great stuffed bear in the dining hall.

  I’m going to die.

  Unfair!

  Not now.

  I thought all of that, as goofy as it seemed later.

  And then, just as I was about to slam the gate, I saw Cole there behind the bear. Where had he come from? And he had a rifle at his shoulder!

  “Don’t move, Big Daddy,” he said, and the bear whirled around. There was a boom that tore the day apart, a high-pitched scream—oh my God, it got Cole! It’s killing Cole!—and then a second boom.

  And just that fast it was over.

  The bear fell back, crashing into the side of the fence that, for some wild reason, didn’t shatter from its weight. A small part of my mind saw that Cole was doing his miraculous rapid emptying and reloading of the rifle even faster than he’d done at the tournament. It was a good thing, too, because then the great animal cried out, a horrible noise—the noise I’d mistaken for Cole’s death cries, I realized later—lifted up, and was hit by the third shot.

  With one last cry, the bear slumped to the ground and did not move.

  I began to shake and watched, as if it were a movie, as Cole ran toward me, literally leapt over the bear, and grabbed me. I threw myself into his arms, shaking so hard I don’t know how I didn’t break apart.

  “I’ve got you, Neil,” he said. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. You’re safe now.” All this time he was rocking me, murmuring into my ear, stroking my hair. He pulled me tighter, and I molded myself against him, some part of me registering I’d underestimated his height. He was shorter than me, but not by much.

  “I—I am?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “A-are y-you sure?” I couldn’t stop stammering. My teeth were almost chattering.

  He pulled back just enough to look at me with his beautiful eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  I nodded, and then he pulled me tight again. At first, I thought I might cry, but that urge vanished quickly. I think I must have cried myself out the day before.

  I was overcome by a sense of safety like I had never known in my life. Cole had me. He’d protected me, saved me. I wrapped my arms around him tighter, marveling at how hard his body was. It felt nothing like Em’s. There was no softness here at all. This was a man. It felt so good. He felt so good. So right. Nothing had ever felt so right.

  I realized I was getting hard. And there was no way he could miss it.

  Cole pulled back slightly and looked deep into my eyes.

  Now we’re going to kiss, I thought. At last. I started to close my eyes and leaned forward.

  “Daddy,” he whispered, “you better get dressed.”

  “Dressed.”

  “Ya dropped your towel.”

  I stepped back, and sure enough, my towel was on the ground. When had that happened?

  I was standing there naked before Cole.

  My cock stood half hard before me. Cole was looking. His cheeks reddened.

  “God,” he said.

  I started to cover myself, and then dropped my hands at my side instead. I wanted him to see me. I wanted to see if he wanted me.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he said.

  “You are,” I replied, and he looked up at me in surprise, his throat working.

  “Neil, as much as I would like to keep staring at you, there are going to be people here any second. And as much as I’d love to take you up on it, I think this better wait.”

  “People?” I asked.

  He nodded. “The rifle. Three shots? They’re going to be here any minute.”

  “God,” I said—and there I was using that word again—and I ran inside to get my clothes.

  It wasn’t a moment too soon.

  Vincent and several wranglers were there by the time I made my way back outside.

  “Looks like we got us two goddamned heroes” was the first thing Vincent said.

  CHAPTER 11: Anticipation

  THE REST of the morning turned out to be quite the adventure. Everyone wanted to see the bear, hear about the bear, hear about how Cole had shot the bear. Even the local news station showed up and interviewed us both. Needless to say, his story was more exciting than mine; he was the hero.

  It seems Cole had come to see me and saw the bear first. He ran into the front door of my cabin, got the rifle down from over the fireplace—he had the key—then came back around and shot the thing. Good thing, too, because this same bear had been playing havoc upstream and had nearly injured some people. If Cole hadn’t shown up when he did, I very well might have been killed. Cole saved my life.

  But why had he come to see me?

  Was it just to tell me about how my family wanted to go on another early morning hike or horseback ride?

  Or could there have been something else?

  “You’re the one who saved me,” he whispered when he got me aside.

  Me?

  I didn’t know about that. I did know something had irrevocably changed between the two of us, though.

  There was no canoe trip that day. Instead, the Black Bear crew decided to move the overnight campout to that night.

  It wasn’t a big deal since there was only a small group involved in actually spending the night on the trail. I was somehow a part of this group, and I know Amy had neglected to tell me about it.

  Seems the campout was planned so a few daring souls could get the feel of what it was really like to live in the Old West and be on the trail. We’d all go out on a cattle drive, and then dinner would be cooked over an open fire and a few “lucky” guests would sleep in two-man tents on the ground—like in the Westerns, like in the Old West—while everyone else headed back to the comfort of the cabins. We were going to sleep on the hard ground. Not even an air mattress. The only modern consideration we’d have would be a blue nylon tarp under us. Our bedrolls were pretty authentic, though—a large wool blanket doubled over, rolled into a cylinder, and carried with us on our mounts. That’s what we’d have to lie on and keep warm under.

  I was glad it was such a warm summery night.

  “What the hell is my back going to be like tomorrow?” I asked Amy.

  She just laughed. “Oh, please! You have a hot tub to climb into as soon as we get back. I have no sympathy. And our spa appointment’s tomorrow.”

  And so we herded cattle. Right out to the very edge of the Black Bear property, where we all had a dinner cooked over the fire.

  This was less elaborate than our previous meals, as they were trying to give us a “taste” of what we might have eaten a hundred years ago. It consisted of beans, but also a chunky stew filled with beef, onions, and potatoes, and something called fry bread, which was round pieces of dough the size of tennis balls that were flattened and deep-fried in what was probably terribly unhealthy oil.

  But it was all eyeball-rollingly delicious. Especially considering how long this day had been. It seemed a year since I’d opened the gate, naked as the day I was born, and stared into the face of that huge bear.

  Cole had stuck with me on the trail all day, keepi
ng Maddy close to Mystic so our legs would occasionally bump. I think I had an erection most of the day. And how amazing was that? Had anticipation for something ever been so strong? I didn’t think so.

  It wasn’t like making love with Em had ever been a chore. I loved her, and I think that was the key. We’d known each other for years, but when I went to her the fateful night I fled from my mother’s house, something happened. She’d held me while I cried and was with me when the police showed up. She held my hand through all of it, despite the fact the cops didn’t want her there. She held her chin out defiantly and dared them to make her leave.

  That’s when I thought I fell in love with Em.

  I did love her. I loved her like I had never loved another human being before. It had swept over me like an avalanche. I’d certainly never felt like that for a girl before.

  Maybe it was only natural to think it was something more than it was.

  That I had somehow been “saved” from my homosexuality.

  What I can’t figure out is why I felt I needed to be saved.

  I’d already given up on God—even before my mother came at me with a knife.

  Why did I care?

  But I did.

  The very idea of being with a man again…. It scared and thrilled me at the same time.

  I would think about Rod…

  …and I would think about Mom and her belt and being taken away for a few weeks.

  I would think about the exciting night skinny-dipping at church camp with George…

  …and I would think about being caught masturbating with him and them sending him away and the terror Mom would find out.

  I would think about Jack and how hot it was a “straight” man had sucked me off… how he had come to me and told me that he wanted to continue having sex with me!

  And I would think about Mom coming after me with a knife.

  But now? Somehow I was finally beyond all of that. Like a historian, I could look on these incidents as stories from a distant past. Finally, they seemed to have lost their hold on me. Was I free at last?

  It had all happened so fast!

  All day long I had ridden alongside this wonderful man. A man who made no excuses for who he was—a masculine, strong, confident man. He wasn’t anything other than who he was. And he was making no excuses for who he wanted.

 

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